Humanity
by PlurKitty
Summary: "But you edge uncomfortably close," Orianna startled her, "to their terrain. Human. They fear you because you are a step away from humanity."


The slender young woman peered into the mirror, repulsed by her image. Staring back at her were a pair of brilliant blue eyes, cut through the middle by a thin, ebonite pupil. They blinked when she did, made the same darting movements. Set in the same deep sockets, framed by the same thick lashes. Those glowing orbs were identical, and it killed Cassiopeia Du Couteau to know that.

The ornate hand mirror wasn't large enough to allow her eyes to wander to any other part of her body, sparing her from the torturous memories that accompanied seeing the emerald scales. Still, she was able to focus on the intricate hood that enveloped her head, marking the absence of what used to be long, ebonite hair. To this day, her shoulders felt bare without the dark tresses falling over them.

Reaching up to caress her olive skin proved to be a mistake as her gaze fell on curled fingers. Each was capped with gold, ending in a severe point, sharp enough to pierce even dragon hide. She ran a single clawed digit along her cheek, just managing to break the skin, a thin line of scarlet blooming from the wound. Had it been deeper, it could be a scar to mar her already disfigured visage.

She felt tears begin to well up in the crystalline pools of her eyes. Hatred, anger, and jealousy had brewed in her mind since the day she broke her oath, and lost her humanity. She couldn't even look at herself without being hit with revulsion and disgust. Many times, she thought of taking her own life, but her lost father kept her persevering.

A toxic drop slid down the angle of her cheekbones, rolling over the crimson sliver that had begun to form there. It stung, the blissful spark of pain radiating throughout the entirety of the right side of her face. More started to flow, following the trail set by the first, shaping tiny rivulets that coalesced across the expanse of her face.

A slender hand released the instrument that so contributed to her sorrows. The mirror shattered on impact with the stone floor, fractured shards scattered across the floor. The frame itself remained intact, an empty ellipse, now stripped of purpose. The serpentine woman could now see her coils and curls staring back at her through the broken pieces of reflective glass that lay strewn across the floor, a thousand pairs of eyes radiating self-loathing.

"Beautiful," spoke a flat, metallic voice.

Cassiopeia swung around in a fury, baring her elongated fangs, already dripping with toxin. "You jest," she hissed, her body drawn back and ready to strike. Insults aimed at her hideous features were nothing she wasn't used to—lying outright that she was anything more than grotesque was cruel.

"Humor is a human emotion. It is lost on me." Every syllable was enunciated just the same as the next, disconcerting monotone words uttered by the Lady of Clockwork herself. Gears and wires constantly shifted around her body, modeled after an exaggerated female form. Her trusted companion and guardian, the Ball, hovered quietly at her side, peeking straight at Cassiopeia with its scope.

"Orianna Reveck, do not lie to me. Men who had once lined up to be my suitors now cower in fear at the very glimpse of me. You cannot say that I am not ugly!" Her voice cracked at the end of her tirade, a lump forming in her throat, a sensation familiar to her from her frequent depressive episodes. She still dreamt of years past, when her beauty sent nobleman to their knees. It seemed now to be an impossible wish, and not a soul would ever look at her the same. Being taunted with her former allure killed her, and so she felt it only fair to kill the one who would tease her as such.

The automaton took a few steps closer to the woman, her movements unsettlingly mechanical. She came to just inches in front of the siren, cocking her head in an eerily childish manner. Two glowing, cyan orbs fixated on two others, similar sets in very different circumstances.

"They do not fear you because you are unattractive," she uttered, reaching behind her back to twist the key embedded in her back. She wound it tight, her hand spinning while her arm remained perfectly still. "They fear you because you tread too close to their world." Her voice was much louder this time, presumably due to her winding feeding additional power into her mechanized body. Her lips, tinted with the slightest coat of rust, began to spread into something that resembled a smile, horrifyingly so.

Cassiopeia remained coiled up like a spring, the aura of tension surrounding her palpable. The woman was uncomfortably close, but she stood her ground. Although she had suspected the robotic girl was incapable of slanting the truth, she just could not bring herself to believe anything other than what she knew to be a reality. Her confusion, as well as a glimmer of curiosity, prevented her from attempting to turn the ballerina into scrap metal. "Your words bemuse me, Lady. Explain."

Curved plates rapidly covered, then retracted over her eyes with a quiet click, the approximation of blinking. "I will strive to bring clarity to a simple concept, Du Couteau." The words weren't meant to be condescending, simply cold and factual. The serpent recognized this, strangely taking no offense at the statement.

"You tread a slight line, one that is on the verge of human, barely in reach." She jerked one steely hand up, holding it completely vertical. The line. "Neither completely beast, nor human. You do not identify. But you edge uncomfortably close," Orianna startled her by slamming her hands together, a clang reverberating out from the collision, "to their terrain. Human. They fear you because you are a step away from humanity."

"But what of the Steam Golem? The Half Dragon? That vixen sorceress?" She spat, her disbelief dripping in the form of venom.

"The robot takes barely a human form. Shyvana dances with the beasts, as the nine tailed fox once did. Now, Ahri is human with additional appendages. Ones that appeal to human men." Her voice, as cold and monotonous as it was, was getting more difficult to doubt. Pure logic could not be refuted, and the automaton practically embodied brutal rationale.

"You do not fail to convince me, Lady. I have but a single question to ask of you." She began to uncoil herself into a more comfortable position, the strain of holding herself on guard releasing from her jade scaled body.

"Go forth, Serpent's Embrace." She somehow managed to convey her piqued interest.

"Do you really… Do you find me beautiful?"

The machine riveted an arm up, her brassy fingers splayed. Her wrist hummed and ticked as she adjusted it to the proper orientation, reaching out to make contact with the side of Cassiopeia's cut face with her palm. Although her hand was fiercely cold, the serpent didn't move.

"You are beautiful, Du Couteau."


End file.
